


Patching You Up

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky [63]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, BAMF Tony Stark, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint Ships It, Idiots in Love, M/M, Paramedic Bucky Barnes, Police Officer Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5124134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Prompt: Imagine paramedic Bucky who is constantly patching up cop Tony because he puts himself in danger a little too often, and someone at dispatch must be playing matchmaker because they always end up at the same calls. Every time.</span>
</p><p>It had seemed safe enough making an offhand remark to Clint about the “hot detective” with the messy brown hair, and puppy dog eyes. Looking back, he realized that it’d been the first time in five years of working with Clint that he’d said anything about <em>anyone</em> being attractive, so really, it was his own fault. Clint had scented blood in the water, and that was that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patching You Up

“James,” he said in his best worst fake English accent, nodding in Rhodey’s direction.

“James,” Rhodey answered automatically, his accent even worse somehow as he returned the nod.

“You know, having a whole routine for greeting each other might be a sign that I’m seeing too much of you two.”

Rhodey sighed, his dark eyes narrowing a bit as he scanned the crowd around them. The red and blue flashing lights cutting through the darkness of the evening made it seem just a bit like they were at a nightclub.

“Tell me about it.”

“Where is he?” Before he’d even gotten the words out, Bucky heard a flurry of cursing, and what might have been a small explosion. “Nevermind. I’ll follow the sounds of disaster.”

“Usually a safe bet,” Rhodey agreed, waving down another officer.

As he picked his way through the scene, Bucky couldn’t help but feel concerned, even though he knew via dispatch that Detective Tony Stark wasn’t seriously injured. Some sort of firefight had taken place in the area; officers were marking out the crime scene all around him, so he had to avoid the little evidence markers as he picked his way over to his patient.

Clint had given him a knowing look and a slap on the back before offering to take the two other injured parties, each with minor scrapes and bruises. If it had been any other call, they’d have worked as a team, but Clint—and everyone else he worked with, apparently—was more interested in playing matchmaker.

“Just ask the guy out to dinner,” Clint begged him as they wove through traffic, sirens blaring. “You know you want to.”

Bucky had been through this routine so many times he didn’t even blush anymore when it came up. “It’s kinda unprofessional.”

“Consider it a personal favor, Buck. The guy is gonna get himself killed one of these days, and I don’t wanna be around when we get that call. You’ll be all mopey, and too traumatized to work, and I’ll need to get a new partner. You know no one else wants to work with me, right?”

“So, because you lack interpersonal skills I need to ask this guy on a date?” Clint grinned and honked the horn by way of answering. “How about you work on your people skills, and stay out of my love life?”

“Says the dude with absolutely  _no_  love life.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t really argue with the remark. He’d had a few dates over the last couple years, although never more than one with the same person. They hadn’t balked at the prosthetic, or even been particularly bad dates, it was just that he couldn’t really see himself with the person for more than a quick roll in the hay. That would have been enough for him back before the arm, but these days it didn’t seem worth it. Being single was easier, even if it was a bit lonely, but that’s what he had friends for.

Really, no one had minded his single status before. Some of his friends even commended him for taking the time to focus on himself rather than getting wrapped up in a relationship before he was ready. That was before he’d met the detective, though.

The guy hadn’t even been on duty when he’d purposefully crashed his car into the car of a drunk driver in order to alter their reckless trajectory, in the process saving a group of kindergarten students that had been waiting with their teacher to cross the street. Bucky could remember Stark sitting there looking appropriately enough like he’d been in a car crash while Rhodey lectured him on risk taking.

“Because of physics!” had been Stark’s counterpoint to whatever Rhodey had said. He looked stubborn and sure of having made the right call, even as he cradled his broken arm, blood trying to run into his eye from a scalp laceration.

“You’re lucky, Detective,” Bucky had said as he loaded Stark into the ambulance. “This could have been a lot worse.”

“Still would have been worth it,” Tony swore, smiling and waving to the group of kids nearby. “You’re what, ex-Army? You should be on my side of this argument.”

And yes, Tony had been heroic, and legitimately handsome, and some small part of Bucky had maybe recognized the physical attraction there, but he’d assumed they’d never see each other again. It had seemed safe enough making an offhand remark to Clint about the “hot detective” with the messy brown hair, and puppy dog eyes.

Looking back, he realized that it’d been the first time in five years of working with Clint that he’d said anything about  _anyone_  being attractive, so really, it was his own fault. Clint had scented blood in the water, and that was that.

Two weeks later, dispatch had routed them out of their way to respond to a call, and he’d found himself once again face to face with Detective Stark. He’d given himself a concussion while pursuing a suspect, and Bucky hadn’t known what to do with the butterflies in his stomach over seeing the guy again.

“Hey, it’s you,” Tony had said, grinning all wide open and welcoming. “This is perfect, now you can sign my cast.”

Which he had, earning himself some playful teasing from Stark over the nickname Bucky, and more intense teasing from Clint. “Go put your digits on that cast, man! He’s hot for you.”

“You’re nuts.”

“No, I’m helping you get your head outta your ass.”

Soon, everyone at work knew about “Bucky’s Detective” and without fail, he found himself being routed to each and every call involving Stark. Which, turns out, there were quite a few of. The guy was reckless, but not in the going off the rails or trying to act like a big shot hero way. He just had an intuitive leap, saw the direction something was headed, and did what needed to be done without giving much thought one way or another to his own safety or survival.

Bucky would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him. Over the last year, they’d gotten to know each other a bit, and Bucky had developed some genuine feelings for the guy. Tony was smart, and funny, and a bit of a flirt, but in the way that didn’t leave you feeling creeped out. He’d asked pointed questions about Bucky’s arm and somehow it’d seemed acceptable to tell the detective about his military career. There hadn’t been any judgement or pity, or even the typical, “you’re so brave,” comments he got from a lot of people not knowing what to say about his missing arm.

The fact that Bucky struggled to think of him as Stark instead of Tony was probably indicative of where he was at on the whole sexy detective front. When he was alone, and indulging himself in a bit of one on one action, it wasn’t  _Detective Stark_  falling from his lips as he reached his climax, it was always  _Tony_. Probably stupid to try to convince everyone you weren’t interested in a guy when he starred in all of your fantasies.

Worse still, Clint had a valid point. If things continued on like this one of these days they’d be called for a completely different reason, and he might have to see the charming, brilliant detective laid out in his very own crime scene. The thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

Up ahead, Bucky spotted Tony crouching over a pile of rubble, poking at it with a stick while holding his necktie to his forehead as a compress. A wave of affectionate exasperation washed over him.

“Do I even want to know?” he called, watching as the tension slipped away and Stark beamed up at him. He swayed a little after scrambling to his feet, and Bucky put an arm out to steady him. “Another concussion?”

Stark grinned a little lopsided grin, and shrugged his shoulder. “I don’t think so? Got caught up in things, forgot to eat. Oh, and my tie is mostly blood now.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, and set down his kit, tilting Tony’s chin up as he nudged his hand away so he could get a look at the head wound. “Hm. You’ll need a couple stitches at least.”

They were standing closer than necessary, so that he could feel the warmth of Tony’s exhalations against his skin, could count the guy’s ridiculously adorable eyelashes, and smell his cologne. Just a tilt of the head and an inch or two and they could have been kissing. The thought of it sent his heart racing in his chest.

“Scars are sexy though, right?”

Tony was still smiling up at him, and all the racket of the crime scene seemed to fade into the background. Bucky slowed his breathing, and stared down into Tony’s eyes. He looked tired, but focused, probably wasn’t concussed. Maybe he also looked a little sad, or was it hopeful? Bucky couldn’t quite tell.

“Being alive and in one piece is sexy.” He grabbed a sterile bandage and pressed that to Tony’s wound, then took his hand and pushed it against the bandage. “Keep pressure on that while we head back to the bus.”

Tony blinked up at him, and Bucky’s stomach did a little flip flop in response. “Yes, sir.”

Rhodey caught his eye and shared a tired smile with him as he led Tony back to the ambulance, and Bucky gave him another nod. If he could have gotten away with it, he’d have been holding Tony’s hand, because as it was the guy kept trying to break away in order to micromanage the officers working the scene.

After what felt like an hour, he finally had Tony in the back of the ambulance, the doors partially closed in an attempt to keep Tony from seeing something that caused him to jump out and get back to work. It was a genuine concern; he’d done it before when Bucky was mid-stitch and he was not looking for a repeat.

“Hey, at least I didn’t get shot this time,” Tony said defensively after a couple minutes of awkward silence.

Bucky shook his head, but couldn’t fight down his smile. “Believe me, I’m thrilled that’s the case.”

“Yeah?”

The stupid thing was, Tony actually looked  _surprised_  that Bucky had said that. The whole evening had a strange surreality to it, which was probably why he opened his mouth and said, “I’m starting to get a complex. Whenever dispatch calls, I hope I’m gonna see you again, but then I’m  _terrified_ , because I don’t know what I’d do if I had to load you into a bodybag.”

Tony went all wide eyed at this, his mouth falling open and a strange, strangled sort of noise emitting.

“Don’t look all shocked. This is the fifth call this  _month_ , Tony.”

“Is it really?” He lowered his eyes, fidgeted a bit. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, ducking his head a bit so he could see the detective’s eyes. “I’m not trying to be an asshole here. I  _like_  you, Tony.” If he wasn’t mistaken, that was a blush Tony was sporting. It made Bucky feel brave. “I want to take you out to dinner—spend some time with you that doesn’t involve patching you up—but since getting discharged I don’t do casual anymore. I’m kinda scared shitless. I can see myself falling in love with you, only to have you get yourself killed doing something reckless.”

The transformation on Tony’s face was the only warning he got before the detective surged forward and kissed him. There were hands gripping the front of his uniform, holding on for dear life, a contrast to the almost shy, tender kiss.

“I can be more careful,” Tony swore, an edge of panic in his voice. “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t take risks, because…”

“I get that risks are involved. We have to go into dodgy situations on the job, too. I’ve had guns pulled on me, had people try to attack us while we’re in the middle of helping them. Someone came at us with an ax last week!”

Tony was still holding on, his mouth hovering just out of reach. “Okay. Yeah. An  _ax_? Please tell me they’re in prison.”

“They’re not.”

“I’d really like to have that dinner with you,” Tony continued, still frowning over the ax thing. “I… I might have wanted that for a while now. Um. But I’m intense, and the job takes up a good bit of my life, and that’s hard to balance with a relationship, and…”

Bucky cut him off with another kiss, his heart racing happily in his chest. “We can compete for long hours and shitty stories at the end of the day,” he suggested before kissing Tony again.

“That sounds  _amazing_ ,” Tony sighed, kissing him back.

They were still clinging to each other, making out like a couple of teenagers when the back of the ambulance opened up without warning. They hardly had time to jump apart before Clint and Rhodey began applauding.

“About time!” Rhodey snapped, while Clint called dispatch to share the news. “Maybe hot monkey sex with the “gorgeous paramedic” can keep this guy from getting himself killed.”

“We’re never going to hear the end of this,” Tony groaned, but he was smiling ear to ear.

Bucky smiled back, and slapped a bandage over Tony’s stitches. “Small price to pay.”


End file.
